Hidden in the Blood: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 5)

Chapter Ten: Joanie, Wednesday

"You're Sergeant Mara, aren't you?"

Joanie looked up from her monitor and saw Constable Patrick Marinville looking down at her. He was taller than everyone else in the detachment, taking the title from her, for which she was relieved; in her experience, male officers in her vicinity, when they weren't trying to hit on her, quietly resented her for being taller than them, as if height were the sole province of males. She couldn't help her genes; her dad was a skyscraper, and she got her height from him, while her shorter brother got their mother's height.

"Yes," she said. "I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced."

He actually saluted her, which he didn't have to do, and said, "Constable Patrick Marinville. I was transferred in from the Kelowna detachment, and I thought I'd introduce myself to everyone here."

Joanie rose and offered her hand. "Nice to meet you." As he took it, firmly but not squeezing hard like a dick would, she said, "I detect a Maritime lilt in your voice, but you say you came from Kelowna?"

He smiled sheepishly and said, "Is it still there? I was born in Moncton, New Brunswick, but I've lived out west for at least half my life."

"Ah, well, it gives you character."

He appraised her in a way that made her stomach flutter. "Seeing your red hair and knowing your last name is Mara, I'd have thought you'd attended a kitchen party or two as well."

She chuckled. "No, as a matter of fact, I was born here. I've always wanted to go east to visit, though."

"I take it you never got posted there?"

"Nope. Just north."

"I hear that."

"So, Kelowna must have been pretty plum, you've got the lake, the wineries. What brought you out here?"

He shrugged. "Well, to be honest, I wanted to be closer to my kids."

Her stomach ceased fluttering. Nope, not getting involved with another man with kids. "Oh. Did your... spouse... come out here with them first?"

His face darkened a little, but he cleared his throat and smiled weakly. "Yeah. You could say that."

Time to jump off this touchy subject. Clearly there were issues there. "Anyway," she said. "Have you been paired up, yet?"

"Uh, yeah, as a matter of fact. Constable al-Rashad. She drives while I take point."

Poor Fatima. She was either going to fall in love or find herself embroiled in a lawsuit. "Excellent. She's good police."

He didn't comment about his partner. He was clearly nervous about something else. "So," he said. "Word around the detachment is you're kind of a hero."

"Ha!" she said. "I got shot so I'm riding a desk. Some hero."

He chuckled. "Still. Most of us don't see any action at all, and you did it while you were off duty."

"Ah, they told you that, did you?"

"You got the Cross of Valour."

"Okay, yeah, it's sitting on my mantle." 

"A kidnapped teenager and a shootout between two rival gangs. They could have screenwrote that for a movie."

She blushed and sat back down. "Before you make my head swell, I have a whole stack of reports to file."

"Say no more. I've talked your ear off. I need to type mine up too and get out of here."

"Oh, were you and al-Rashad on the graveyard shift?"

"Yeah. So, I'm curious, will you be going back out in the field?"